


quick & dirty

by dzesi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: BDSM, Bruises, Drabble Collection, Finger Sucking, Hair-pulling, Hand & Finger Kink, Humiliation, M/M, Praise Kink, Public Hand Jobs, it's good to take turns, switchy & bitchy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:48:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26556883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dzesi/pseuds/dzesi
Summary: bite-size ruminations on the sex lives of miya atsumu and sakusa kiyoomi.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 22
Kudos: 137
Collections: My beloved stories, SakuAtsu NSFW Week





	1. hair-pulling.

the first day of a fresh undercut is fantastic: the feeling of a perfect, soft, brushy buzz—hot off the clippers—is delicious. 

(the only thing better, in atsumu’s opinion, is the night before, when his hair’s finally grown in enough for sakusa to get a good, hard fistful at the nape of his neck... not so much he can twist his long fingers around, but more than enough to dig into, to wrench atsumu’s head back, to bare his throat. 

it doesn’t feel like the bright stupid sting he gets when sakusa pulls at the long, bleached hair on the top of his head, pinpricking and good enough most of the time. no—it’s something hot and guttural against the base of his skull, that jerks the breath from his diaphragm and pulls a moan from deep at the bottom of his spine all the way out his mouth. 

it almost makes him want to grow his hair out a little. it’s a shame he’s too vain to do it.)


	2. bondage.

they each get something so different out of it, being tied up. 

being held down. 

atsumu is always in motion. he needs to be made to be still. he needs to be made to keep motionless, trembling, every muscle alight with the need to explode into movement, fighting obedience but kept to heel. 

when atsumu breaks, he strains. he shakes. he releases.   
he sinks.

sakusa is always in control. he needs to be made helpless. he needs to be made desperate, pliant, caught at the knife’s edge between a claustrophobic panic attack and the ecstasy of coming apart at the seams.

when sakusa breaks, he begs. he cries. he lets go.   
he floats.

they take turns unmaking each other piece by piece. when they come back together, raw and new, they’re just a little more alike.


	3. body worship.

when sakusa washes his hands, he does so respectfully, responsibly. atsumu, though? maybe he does, maybe he doesn’t, or just rinses one and flicks the water in sakusa’s face to piss him off. maybe he slaps his wet hands on sakusa’s ass as he walks by.

so when sakusa washes atsumu’s hands, he does it like a real bastard, staring him down in the mirror. he squeezes and twists each of atsumu’s fingers, feeling all the little bones move around under his pale skin, his entire livelihood wobbling around in joint sockets loose from cracking his knuckles too much his whole life. 

atsumu lets him get away with it, though. lets him lather, rinse and repeat to his heart’s content, because later, when sakusa’s reluctant tongue’s gonna have to make love to the spaces between whatever fingers atsumu shoves deep towards his throat, he doesn’t want him to be distracted.


	4. dirty talk.

atsumu’s dirty talk is a trainwreck. 

it’s a skill he never quite finished mastering for an ex that didn’t stick around long enough for it to be worthwhile. he can sext well enough to get the job done, but ask him to do it out loud? he gets hot-faced, tongue-tied, too embarrassed to get it up. luckily, it’s not like it’s much of a turn-on for either of them.

but making atsumu try to talk dirty anyway? when he gets so flustered, when he literally begs sakusa not to make him do it, turns red and stupid and babbles the most humiliating trash imaginable? when he feels so shameful he could cry, but knows damn well that he’s not going to get touched at all until he can wax porno-poetic about what, exactly, he wants sakusa to do to him?

turns out sakusa’s willing to listen to a lot of vapid bullshit if it means he gets to watch atsumu squirm.


	5. public sex.

it works best when atsumu ignores him completely. 

when they’re out with their teammates, or pressed close on public transit, and an idle hand sneaks under a table or behind a jacket to fondle at sakusa’s inseams, all without its owner ever missing a beat or shooting him a glance.

they’re lucky—atsumu’s always been chatty enough for both of them, and sakusa’s kind of a twitchy guy anyway, so nobody ever questions it if they see him fidget or shudder or glare. as long as he keeps his breathing clean, they can keep playing with nobody the wiser.

sometimes, though, atsumu likes to watch. nothing too obvious, just out of the corner of his eye—but enough to ratchet the tension a little tighter. he likes to try to catch the exact moment a reaction makes a break for it, dashing across sakusa’s face in shaky microexpressions. 

he likes to see the edges fray.


	6. leaving marks.

sakusa’s skin’s too delicate, too porcelain. he bruises like a peach and he can be a little prissy about it. he might like to get rough in the moment, but he doesn’t really wanna see reminders for the next week, so when he wants it, atsumu’s gotta be clever, gotta find ways to make him ache and sting without all the melodrama.

it has never once occurred to atsumu to give a fuck. he likes to watch bruises show up yellow and green three days later, doesn’t mind the grim mundanity of cleaning scratch marks or caring for welts. he’s proud of what he can take, likes the flutter in his guts when he remembers. 

they both get a kick out of that moment somebody else notices, too, but that’s just a fun bonus. 

the best thing about bruises is the way they map all the sorest, sweetest spots to come back to.


	7. praise.

atsumu, a noted lifelong shit-head, can’t remember a single occasion when somebody tried to tell him he was good, so the first time sakusa tries it, he laughs out loud. 

it sounds so out of character that it totally derails him, which leaves sakusa defensive and embarrassed, flipping the dynamic and generally making a whole fucking mess of things. they both wind up awkward and flagging, with hurt feelings and wilting libidos. 

it’s just not how they work—atsumu’s supposed to be rotten and sakusa’s supposed to sneer and they’re supposed fuck hard and dirty and hot and mean.

but sometimes, despite himself, atsumu is good. and sometimes, despite himself, sakusa can be nice. so he keeps trying, just starts a little smaller. a little simpler, easier to believe. it’s just gonna have to be like anything else: they can work up to it.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading—these were so fun to write! which do you like best? <3


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